It’s been a year
The clock strikes midnight
And its been a year
But this isn’t Cinderella
Or another stupid fairytale
Because it’s been a year
Since anyone has loved you
Or at least pretended they did
There have been people
Who have itched to touch you
Feel your skin under their hands
Sure,
But in the end
You’re left without being desired
For anything more than your body
Maybe it’s easier to make-believe the passion
For romance
But all of the endings are the same
Crying yourself to sleep is your
Happily ever after

I promise not to press you between my pages,
You're beautiful because you're so alive.

Did we make it home
After years of wandering?
Can we see the lights?

She wears sweaters and sleepless nights on her skin like pink dresses in the summertime
insomnia should finally win her this fashion contest
But she isn't skinny enough
At night she screams herself awake and no one else
They don't hear her when she talks when the sun is up either
Her toes curl up and the rest of her follows
This is just another body wishing itself real

Sorry for the nightmares
And the crying when the sky is dark
Maybe you know more than you should
Understand more than you ought to
Even when the tears come
Loneliness won't come before you